Bite Mark

by Lily Harlem

  Chucking the note to one side, I sped to the front door again. “Damn it. Money.” I would need more for a taxi to Smithfield. With frantic movements I upended an old green vase Dad and I kept spare change in. I spread the coins out with the flat of my hand and counted out nineteen. That would have to do.

  Ding dong.

  I froze and stared at the front door. My heart thumped so hard I was sure it was going to tear itself in two.

  Ding dong.

  Nausea rippled in my stomach as I pulled it open an inch.

  “Hello, Beatrice,” Elfrida said, tipping her head and giving a sickly smile. “You raced off pretty fast. I just wanted to make sure you were okay. I do hope I didn’t upset you; that wasn’t my intention at all.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “No, please, maybe I can help.”

  “I don’t think so. You’re one of them.”

  “Yes, but don’t forget I’m their superior, they’re at my command.”

  I doubted that very much. If I’d learned one thing about Ryle and Aimery, it was that they were very much men of their own minds.

  “Why don’t you invite me in, Bea. We can talk about it out of this disgusting weather.”

  “No. Please leave.”

  “But you must be so fearful for your father’s safety.”

  “My father is safe and well.” I hoped I sounded more sure than I felt.

  “Well, yes for now.” She glanced upward. “I really am getting frightfully wet.”

  “I don’t care. I just want you to leave me alone.”

  She stepped forward, sharply, suddenly. Her lips pulled back and for the first time I saw a set of fangs. Pointed and mean, they turned her pretty face into one of a monster.

  Her eyes flashed with streaks of crimson and she hissed in a breath. “There is something about you they’re hiding from me, and I’ll find out what that is; in fact I can almost smell it now.”

  I’d had enough. With a loud slam I whacked the door shut.

  I heard her yelp of frustration as I leaned my back against it. It seemed I’d been correct in my limited knowledge about vampires; they did have to be invited across a threshold. While I was here I was safe.

  The trouble was, my father wasn’t.

  After a few minutes I slipped into the living room and peered out of the nets. Elfrida was in the distance, strolling past the terraced houses that made up Davies Row. She held her head high and her arms swung casually at her sides. She looked in no hurry but wherever she was going, I hoped she stayed the hell away from me.

  A brisk phone call to ABC Cabs and I was assured a driver would pick me up from my door within five minutes and take me to Smithfield.

  I hovered anxiously by the window, praying that Elfrida wouldn’t return to the street again. I wanted to make a dash from house to cab and get to the market without any more encounters with her. After that Dad and I would figure it out.

  Fuck, what am I going to tell him?

  To my relief the cab pulled up in under four minutes. After locking the door and having a furtive glance left and right, I hopped onto the backseat.

  “Smithfield Market, please, and step on it.”

  “Sure thing, love.”

  * * * * *

  The huge market was eerily still and vacant as it always was on a Saturday morning. The normally buzzing atmosphere of bartering and chitchat had been replaced with echoes and the distant, muffled sounds of London traffic.

  I’d slipped in through a tradesman’s door on the east side, strode through Garret’s stalls and was now hotfooting down the deserted central walkway. Each thud of my shoes echoed up to the ornate girders supporting the ceiling and my breaths were loud in the vacuous space.

  As I approached our neat, empty stall the scent of cleaning products and sawdust filtered up my nose, though the tang of blood could never truly be taken from the air.

  No wonder Aimery had liked to walk here so much. It must have been like me walking through a candy shop or a bakery, or perhaps Thorntons chocolate factory.

  A pang of regret hit my heart. Aimery—strong, loving, handsome Aimery. Maybe I’d made a mistake? He’d never done anything to make me doubt him. I slowed my pace slightly. And Ryle, he was so passionate about protecting me, keeping me safe. Surely that would include my father—he was all the family I had left. They understood that and they knew all about loss and grief, what with Natifa and all.

  But could I take the risk that they needed Dad removed from my life? The answer to that question was simple, no, and now that my head was clearer and I wasn’t so addled with lust I had to face the facts.

  My pace ramped up a gear.

  I’d been swept off my feet by two gorgeous vampires, who thrilled me, adored me and drank my blood. Not only that but they were part of an ancient order, living right here in London. It was an order that didn’t acknowledge the laws of England or consider themselves answerable to the police. They did exactly what they wanted.

  My walk turned into to a jog. If the Worshipful Company permitted members to affirm themselves only with orphaned mortals, then Dad was the only thing in Aimery and Ryle’s way.

  A stab of regret hit me in the sternum. The thought of being with them on a permanent basis had been hugely appealing. What Denny had found with Gaspare was something I longed for. Passion, love and companionship, things I dreamed of having in my life. As I’d drifted into my slumber last night, the possibility that I’d found that sense of completion had fulfilled my soul’s greatest desire.

  Maybe that was what Elfrida had been jealous of, the fact that we made one another happy. Perhaps that was her motivation for stirring up trouble for us. I glanced around, spotted a cleaver and grabbed it. There were no thresholds to protect me from the bloodsucking bitch if she showed up here.

  “Dad?” I called. With the cleaver held tight I sprinted toward the narrow back office he used for storing his files and paperwork. “Are you here?”

  I clutched the doorframe, looked in, then quickly tucked the sharp instrument behind my back.

  “Bea.” He turned, smiled and propped his small round glasses on top of his bald head. “What are you doing here?” He pushed his chair back a few inches but didn’t stand.

  “I was so worried about you,” I said, surreptitiously setting the cleaver on a bench just outside the door. I let out a sigh then rushed up and threw my arms around his shoulders.

  He let me hug him and patted my forearms soothingly. “What’s got into you?” he said with a chuckle. “I left a note on the kitchen table.”

  “I know. I saw it.” I hugged him a little tighter.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. I could hear the confusion in his voice. We weren’t normally physically affectionate with each other, more stiff upper lip.

  “I just, well, I was just worried that someone might have tried to hurt you, that’s all.”

  “And why would anyone do that?” he said in the same voice he’d used when I was a small child.

  “My question exactly,” said a gruff voice from behind me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Releasing my father, I turned.

  It was Tony, the tenant of the opposite stall. He was standing in the doorway, wearing jeans and a Newcastle top, he had on a flat cap and his cheeks were weather-bitten red.

  “What do you mean?” I asked, a nervous flutter attacking my stomach. Shit, Tony, he was Sean’s employer.

  “Well it’s just bloody odd, isn’t it?” he said, stepping in and shoving his fat hands on his hips. “That people keep disappearing ’round here, first that fag Denny and now my nephew, Sean.”

  “He was your nephew?” I asked.

  Tony frowned. “Is my nephew, Bea, is.” He stepped a little nearer, a glint of menace slicing through his eyes.

  I shuddered. I never had liked Tony. He was like a bomb waiting to go off, his temper short and his fists free and easy.

  “What do you know, eh,” he said looming over me, the scent of cheap a
ftershave sharp on my nostrils and cloggy on my tongue. “Blokes you hang out with keep vanishing into thin air, Bea. Weird that, ain’t it?”

  “I don’t know anything. What are you talking about?”

  Dad stood and rested his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t like your tone with my daughter, Tony,” he said sternly.

  “Well that’s just fucking tough, because I want answers, now.”

  “Watch your gutter mouth around a lady.” Dad dragged in a deep breath and squared his shoulders.

  Anxious about what was about to kick off, I added hurriedly, “I haven’t got answers. I told you, I know nothing about Sean.”

  “That lad was just out of the slammer, done five for GBH. He was turning over a new leaf, here, with me, and how long did it last? Mmm?”

  I swallowed and shrugged. An image of Sean being bitten by Ryle flashed in my mind’s eye. His body going limp, his skin turning sheet-white and his last breaths billowing in front of his face. I swallowed and thought of the makeshift grave his body was rotting in. Dank and wet, worm-ridden and layered with leaf mulch.

  “Three weeks, that’s how long he stayed, and then he dashed off, said he was going to ask you out for lunch and I haven’t seen the little sod since.”

  Lunch! Jesus! How ironic was it that he’d ended up Ryle’s lunch. “Well I don’t know. I never saw him. We never had lunch or anything, ever.”

  Tony’s face flushed to plum and his jowls wobbled. “Liar. You fucking liar.” Blobs of spittle flew from his mouth and a drip landed wetly on my cheek.

  “Hey, come on now. I won’t stand for this.” Dad said, stepping in front of me. “My Bea isn’t a liar and to be honest I don’t think your nephew is really her sort.” He dropped his voice, low and menacing. “And I said, watch your language.”

  Tony was visibly shaking. He was really mad and obviously convinced that I had something to do with Sean’s disappearance.

  I shook my head. “I never saw him. You have to believe me. I went to see a friend that day, I’ve been with him ever since.”

  “There’s not a single truth spilling from your lips, bitch.”

  “It’s time for you to go, Tony.” Dad shoved him on the shoulder. “I won’t stand for this.”

  Tony didn’t budge. He just loomed over us both. He was a good head taller than me and had a few inches on my father.

  “Now,” Dad said, raising his chin and jabbing him again. “Piss off.”

  Tony’s nose twitched, his eyes narrowed and to my horror he lifted a long boning knife into the space between him and Dad. A shard of light from the ceiling window bounced off the knife and reflected on Tony’s cheek like a ghoulish prism.

  “What the hell,” Dad said, taking a step back and tucking me behind his body. “Fuck off out of here, Tony. I’m not in the mood for your crap.”

  “Like I care about that.”

  My knees went weak, my stomach clenched. Knives were the tools of my trade. I handled them all the time. But this was the second occasion in as many days one had been raised threateningly in front of me.

  The sheer edge and the lethal point released a surge of adrenaline into my system. Fight or flight. My legs jerked and energy gathered to help me fight.

  Tony suddenly lunged forward, shoving Dad so hard he staggered against his table, spreading files and papers on to the floor.

  I yelped and backed up. But I wasn’t fast enough, plus the small confines of the office meant I couldn’t scoot around Tony and get to the door.

  He grabbed me easily. Latching my back to his chest in a harsh grip.

  “Come here, bitch, and start telling me the truth.”

  “Get off,” I gasped.

  His clasp tightened. He lowered his mouth to my ear and his stale-smelling breath blew hot and hard over my cheek—a stark contrast to the coolness of the knife pressing against my neck.

  I froze. One more ounce of pressure and the knife would break my skin. One slide and it would take out my jugular.

  “No,” Dad grunted, moving toward us but then stopping abruptly, his gaze on the deadly weapon at my throat. “Jesus Christ, what are you doing?”

  “I know she’s not telling me something. Her and Sean were an item, banging each other on the side; she must know where he is.”

  “No, no, we weren’t, I don’t…” My voice came out a squeak.

  “Don’t give me that,” Tony snarled. “He told me all about your nights out together and how you couldn’t keep your hands off him. Always shoving down his pants and begging him to do you.”

  “No,” I whispered. “That’s not true.”

  Tony squeezed me closer, huffing the breath from my lungs. “Was he hanging out with that East End gang again, the one with the drug pushers? What’s it called, Queen’s Boyz or something?”

  “I don’t know. Really, I don’t know.” The sharpness of the knife against my skin was sickening. My vision had blurred and the need to vomit was growing.

  “Tell me, you must have chatted about what he was up to. Who he hung with.”

  “I didn’t even know he was your nephew,” I managed to say. “Or just out of prison. And we weren’t seeing each other, I swear.”

  “Liar, he told me you knew about his time behind bars and were fine with it. In fact it made you horny as fuck.”

  “No, no I didn’t know any of that.”

  “Please, let her go,” Dad said. Fear had drained the color from his face and he held his hands out pleadingly. “She’s all I have, please don’t hurt her.”

  “I’ll second that.” Aimery’s voice.

  I could have wept with relief, yet I couldn’t turn to the door to see if it was really him or if the sound had been a figment of my imagination.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Tony said gruffly.

  Okay, it was a real voice. Thank God.

  “I’m Beatrice’s date, for want of a better word, so I strongly suggest you remove the knife from her neck.”

  “You heard the man,” Dad said, glancing briefly at Aimery and then back to me.

  “Fuck you. I’m not doing anything until I have answers.” Tony moved us slightly and I saw Aimery walking into the room.

  He wore his dark gray suit, his hair was slick and neat and he projected his usual air of calm and grace.

  “Well, the thing is,” Aimery said, coming to within six feet of me, “Beatrice doesn’t have the answers so what you are doing is utterly pointless.”

  “Sure she does,” Tony snarled. “She’s just being a fucking bitch and not telling me.”

  Aimery frowned and his eyes narrowed. “Are you calling the woman I love a bitch?” There was something unearthly about his tone and it also held the hint of challenge.

  Love?

  Somewhere deep inside my heart did a little flip.

  “Yeah,” Tony said, “and I can’t see a pompous suit like you being able to do anything about it, so why don’t you just fuck off and let us butchers sort out our problems the traditional way.”

  Aimery raised his eyebrows. “Traditional?”

  “Yeah, not your pansy paper-pushing ways.” He grunted. “We do it with knives.”

  “Jesus, Tony,” Dad said, “you hurt her and I swear, you’ll never set foot in London again and that will be after I’ve had the boys mess you up so bad—”

  “Your empty threats don’t scare me.” Tony chuckled and slid the flat side of the knife over my neck.

  I gasped and squeezed my eyes shut.

  “This is what is going to happen,” Aimery said firmly. “You let Beatrice go and then I will give you answers.”

  “You don’t even know what the fucking question was, arsehole.”

  I opened my eyes. Aimery was staring straight at me. My head pounded. How was this happening?

  “I think I do.” Aimery paused. “You want to know what happened to Sean.”

  “Fuck. You do know something.” Tony shifted the knife from my throat and waved it at Aimery. “Tell me, dickhead, or I’l
l cut you.”

  Aimery sprang for Tony, moving so fast his body was a blur.

  I cried out as Tony was knocked from me with a force that felt like an express train hitting.

  Dad grabbed me just before I tumbled to the floor, and pulled me against his chest.

  But I didn’t want hugs. I was terrified for Aimery, what if Tony stabbed him? I spun around in time to see Aimery shoving Tony against the wall. He raised him up, high, with one hand beneath Tony’s fat jaw, until Tony’s feet came off the ground by two feet at least.

  “You messed with the wrong woman,” Aimery said.

  Tony’s face was puce and he was swinging his legs crazily, trying to kick Aimery.

  “The knife,” I cried, a flashback from the van gripping me. “Aimery, the knife.” It was gleaming ominously in Tony’s right hand.

  My warning was too late.

  Tony brought the knife down hard on Aimery, into his right side, beneath his upstretched arm. It tore through his jacket.

  I screamed, flying my hands to my mouth. But the sound petered out as I realized Aimery hadn’t even flinched.

  “That’s the best you have to give?” Aimery asked, tightening his grip on Tony’s neck.

  By the choked noise that gurgled up from Tony, his airway was now completely blocked. The knife clattered to the floor as he tried without success to peel Aimery’s fingers from his throat.

  “You had best listen to me loud and clear,” Aimery said in a slow, calm voice. “Bea knows nothing about Sean’s whereabouts and neither does her father, so if you feel the need to ask any more questions, just remember you’ll have me to deal with.”

  A groaning, painful burble came from Tony. I thought his head might explode if he went any redder.

  “Got it?” Aimery asked.

  Tony managed half a nod.

  Aimery stepped back, releasing him as suddenly as he’d grabbed him.

  Tony hit the floor and then slid his back down the wall with his knees crumpling beneath him. He clutched his throat and gulped in air. His eyes were watery and bulging.

  Aimery gave him a withering look, then picked up the knife and handed it to my father. “Mr. Benton, will you take care of this, sir?”